Wingtips
by flippa03
Summary: AU/ future fic: Blaine and Kurt are in their mid-twenties, living in Europe, but different countries. A chance meeting brings them into each other's lives, but is it for a passing moment or more?
1. Chapter 1

It was the wingtips that did it. He hadn't seen a pair of those since… when exactly? Probably at least seven years since they last did the rounds. The young man sighed at the memory, that English countryside chic revival had been a blessing and a curse, trying to get good quality tweed in Ohio had been no easy feat, nor was wearing it in the searing summer heat, but ooooh, the cut. That elegant English cut. Delicious to wear, criminal almost. If only he'd known then how good it had made his ass look, like truly known, had the confidence to OWN it, well, his final year at McKinley might have been a bit more interesting, instead of having to wait until college for that confidence to kick in and the guys to follow. He smiled to himself as he took another sip of champagne and watched the cute flight attendant sashay past him. They really did have better-looking staff in Upper Class he smirked, almost worth the money alone. Thank God it was on expenses though.

He refocused on the shoes in front of him, the owner hidden from view by the booth type partition. These looked like they'd been around since then, but in a much-loved and cared for fashion, like an old friend. The brown leather was scuffed and faded, but polished and repolished til it looked like an old oak table. He shuffled further forward in his seat to get a closer look.

Yup, definitely vintage. And resoled for sure. Not designer, but a good solid make. And paired with- what was that? He inched forward even more to get a closer look- were those… orange penguins on bright blue socks? Kurt sucked in his breath, eyes wide as saucers in shock at such a fashion faux pas. Seriously, how could anyone even, really and truly, believe that THAT was an acceptable look? What kind of crazed individual would even let themselves out of the house like that, never mind on an international flight, it just didn't even bear…

"Hi!"

An amused voice cut across Kurt's thoughts, jerking his head up abruptly. His eyes met honey gazing over the partition at him, "oh dear god, what IS that shade" Kurt thinks, a split second before "oh shit I'm busted" as the eyes grow crinkled, the man plainly amused at finding Kurt bent over double staring at his footwear.

"Hi there, I was just , I mean, I thought your shoes were… interesting and wanted to get a closer look and so I, um, looked, closer, I mean, see, I work in fashion and I…"

Shut up Kurt, shut up. Brain to Kurt, brain to Kurt. Shut. The. Hell. Up.

A warm flush was spreading up Kurt's neck, he could feel it. Painfully aware of the lack of concealer- hell, he was on a red eye, he didn't think it would be necessary, OK? -"What Would Wintour Do?" chanted like a mantra through his head as Wingtip Man threw his head back and laughed. Honest to God, just like that, a roar like he couldn't care less what the other passengers thought.

"Well, I'm used to being checked out, but I've never had my shoes checked out… this must be a first!" he chuckled, and was that a flirty glint in his eye? And, dear LORD, what was with that, well, mane is the only word, mane of out-of-control curly hair falling all over his face and shoulders? Kurt wasn't too sure, as Wingtip Man pushed back some of the mop from his face, reaching his other hand over the divide.

"Hi, I'm Blaine, and my shoes are called Adam and Steve"

Dear Lord. That smile could light up Christmas.

"Oh, I, um" OH FOR PETE'S SAKE STRING TOGETHER A COHERENT SENTENCE. YOU ARE NOT 15 Kurt's brain screamed. He glanced up to see Blaine of the Wingtips grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"I'm Kurt." He smiled demurely back. Oh this was going to be an interesting flight.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I'm not too sure if anyone is reading this, and if you are, are you enjoying it? Please let me know!

2

Blaine watched as Kurt stopped the cute attendant and took another flute of champagne from the tray elegantly, with a smile and nod. _What__the__hell_ he thought, helping himself to another glass. _Not everyday you get paid to travel in business AND get sat next to a hot guy._ And god, was he hot. Totally not the type he'd normally go for, too groomed, too precise. _Too__Dalton_ Blaine thinks to himself, too much the boy he'd left behind long ago.

He looked amazing, this guy, a little uptight maybe, the upright posture, the crisp shirt and oh-so-carefully-placed brooch on the collar, but he looked… so...so him. So exactly how he was supposed to be. Blaine couldn't put his finger on it, but something in him clicked as the young man lifted his gaze back to meet his eyes.

Pretty eyes, really pretty. Such patterns of colour, stark against his pale skin, _wow,__this __guy __never __leaves __the __house_, Blaine thinks. _Else __he __has __a __vampire __thing __going __on, __can__'__t __go __out, __yeah, __maybe __that__'__s __why __he__'__s __on __the __night __flight, __has __to __travel __that __way. __God, __how __inconvenient __would __that __be?_

No time like the present to find out.

"So Kurt, are you on business or pleasure?" he smiled, swinging himself monkey-like around the dividing partition between their seats, landing on the small footrest seat thing facing Kurt directly with a grin.

He realizes the other man is staring at him, head cocked to one side, a quizzical look on his face.

"Oh, is this, is this ok?" he gestures vaguely to his seat "I figured, y'know, since we're going to spend the next eight hours getting to know each other, I'd better get comfortable. Either that or we could just sit next to each other in silence and miss the chance for a more exciting ride" He turned his charm gun setting to "stun" and let his grin reach from ear to ear, watching it have the desired effect on his new acquaintance who shook his head and laughed, drinking deeply from his glass as an adorable flush spread up his neck to his cheeks.

_I wanna talk to this guy, play it cool Blaine, concentrate, my god it's not that hard, even if he does have eyes that dolphins might play in... Why is he staring at me with his eyebrow kind of twitching?_

_Oh shit, I zoned out again. _

"Um, sorry, what was that?" Blaine smiled apologetically.

"I said it's kind of neither. I live in Paris, so I guess I'm going home."

"Oh" _huh? _"But… I guess, your accent, I assumed you were American, you are, aren't you?" _smoooooooooooooth Blaine._

"Yes, but I moved to Paris about four years ago. I got an internship there out of college and never moved back I guess. I just, I just love it there. " Blaine couldn't fail to notice the warm smile that spread across Kurt's face as he spoke of Paris, the love in his tone. He could almost smell the croissants baking.

Kurt couldn't fail to notice the heat spreading straight up his body, emanating from the point where Blaine's knee was currently resting against his. Normally he'd shift away, after all, unnecessary wear on McQueen was just unwelcome but…well… he'd make the exception just this once. Claude would have tutted, but then, Claude tutted at most things, he was the only person Kurt knew who was more uptight about couture than he was. _Well __Claude __isn__'__t __here. __As __always._

"So tell me about Paris, is it awesome? Ohmygod I'd love to go, I can't wait, I've always dreamt of wandering along the river, crossing the bridges the whole way, I've been planning ever since I knew I was going to London… kicking up leaves in the Tuileries, getting drunk in some dark alley around Montmatre, arguing about existentialism with some chic artisans smoking Gitanes.."

_God __his __eyes __twinkle __like __a __million __suns __when __he__'__s __excited _Kurt thought to himself idly, as he watched him stop and charm the flight attendant into just giving up and handing over the bottle of champagne, making Blaine promise to not disturb those who were trying to sleep. He saluted and grinned, before turning his gaze back to Kurt, tucking his feet underneath him as he got more comfy on Kurt's seat.

_And __a __voice __you__'__d __like __to __wake __up __to, __like __cool __water __soothing __pebbles _he mused as Blaine topped up his glass, realizing he was heading for the drunken land of I-don't-care and he'd forgotten to pack a tote.


End file.
